The Need for Pro Choice
I’ve had my keyboard open since yesterday morning, but I couldn’t birth a single word when I realized how much I needed the silence. I needed to listen to the grieving, enraged collective criticisms against women.
It wasn’t until on my way home from work, after witness the aftermath of a tremendous car accident, that spilled me and spoke me into a river of tears.
There’s been another breech in the cosmos and midwives are gathering to receive their soul sisters to help with the birthing of humanity. Their hearts are shoulder to shoulder, tears circling, intelligences articulating, few brothers are near, but we do see you and are grateful. Your humbleness is kindness and the highest strength.
We know most men are denying the epidemic for they fear they’ll lose their ranking in society. They no longer hold swords and defend but scratch their names and sign away equal rights with their created privilege, which is unseen to them, but demanded. This type of status steps on wombs, kills, lies, and enslaves women to fill their endless pride. It is not an accident.
There’s more that needs to be seen in this contemptuous hatred and superiority.
Her body is a temple, a tempest with limits, a reasoning of feels, a softness that is courageous, a tiredness that wears worry and a rage that channels her truths.
Peacekeeping has a snapping point. We fully need each other’s creative juices to balance the chemical equation of prochoice. Not advised, chastised, blamed and shamed. This life-choosing-giving, from soul penetrating sexual acts — needs to be supported and not abused.